


Stained Glass

by rubyofkukundu



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-20
Updated: 2010-02-20
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:29:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyofkukundu/pseuds/rubyofkukundu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A confrontation in a church.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stained Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 64 minutes for the prompt: Colors.
> 
> Originally posted here: <http://petitte-soeur.livejournal.com/92644.html>

I find him in the church, as I knew I would. And I have to stop as I push my way in through the heavy wooden doors because the sight is almost breathtaking.  
  
He's sitting in the front row of pews, his head bowed and his eyes closed in prayer.  
  
Sunlight streams in through the old stained glass, painting his skin an array of colours.  
  
He looks so beautiful like that, dark hair falling over his lashes, and a delicate, sophisticated maturity blooming over his still-boyish features.  
  
Like a jewel amidst the cold, stone walls.  
  
If he's noticed me enter, he doesn't acknowledge it.  
  
I walk up to him warily. For all my 14 years, I can still count the number of times I've been in a church on one hand. Religion's not something that's played a part in my family, but not so for his.  
  
His family are devout. He _believes_.  
  
And today, after everything, I knew I'd find him here.  
  
He still doesn't look up as I move closer, my footsteps noisy in the stillness. With each step I can feel my heart breaking a little bit further, as if there's anything left to break after he ran away.  
  
This summer was a bright one, warm with sunshine and happiness, and two months ago I had met _him_.  
  
His parents had just moved to the area, and in a village as small as this one, it's not hard to get to know any new neighbours. It didn't take long for us to become friends, and we'd run off together into the fields or the dappled shade of the copse of trees and laugh and talk and play.  
  
He's not like any of my other friends though. It didn't take me long to work that out. I hadn't really thought that this sort of stuff concerned me, but once I'd known him for a few days, my whole worldview turned upside down.  
  
I was in love.  
  
And it was glorious.  
  
I didn't tell him though. Oh no. That would be too soon, too scary, but it didn't matter if I didn't tell him; he was always in my company anyway, and when I smiled with all the warmth and affection that I felt, he smiled back in just the same way.  
  
Everything was falling into place, as if it had meant to be all along.  
  
And this morning, we'd walked for half an hour, up to the top of the hill with the steep chalk sides, where you can lie on the grass and feel the warmth of the sun on your face.  
  
I'd felt as if it wasn't possible for me to feel happier, with the fields stretching out around us and the light of his smile by my side. I didn't really think about what I was doing. I didn't need to; there's no time for thinking when things just happen.  
  
Like the way our hands brushed and I curled his fingers in my own. The way he'd laughed so lightly. The way we'd both sat so close together that I could feel him breathing.  
  
The way he'd parted his lips. The way I'd leant forward.  
  
And the way he'd stood up and run away before I even knew what was happening.  
  
Of course he'd have run down here to the church. Where else would he be?  
  
I'm close enough now that I can see his lips moving in prayer, fervently, shining in the light from the windows.  
  
I feel like I can't breathe.  
  
"Hey," I say, and he jolts back like he's just been bitten. He stares up at me, wide-eyed and beautiful.  
  
"Leave me alone!" he hisses, voice trembling.  
  
It takes all my willpower not to cry. Hesitatingly, I ask, "Why?"  
  
He puts his head in his hands. "Because it's wrong."  
  
Wrong? "Wrong?" I don't understand. Not at all. Not when he'd seemed so… Not when I'd thought we…  
  
"It's not right." he says, voice muffled through his fingers, "I'll go to Hell if… if…"  
  
Oh. So that's what it is. A religious thing. It doesn't make me any more able to understand. "You don't actually believe that, do you?" I ask.  
  
He looks at me, his face pale. "Of course I do!"  
  
"I step closer to put a hand on his shoulder but he backs away. "Don't touch me!" he shouts. "Stop trying to tempt me!"  
  
And I definitely can't stop the tears this time, not in the face of such blatant rejection. For a horrible moment, I know that I'm going to lose the first person I've ever loved. I'm almost defeated, but not quite.  
  
"Listen to me," I say, voice cracking, "how can you be so certain? How do you know you're going to go to Hell? Surely God's not so cruel as to…"  
  
But he's looking at me with fear in his eyes.  
  
He believes. He _believes_ and there's nothing I can do to stop it.  
  
"If I repent," he says, "if I never see you again, then maybe Jesus will…"  
  
"I love you!" I say, desperately.  
  
He stares at me, breathlessly, tears running down his own cheeks now. After a moment, he swallows thickly and whispers, "I love you too."  
  
"Fuck this." I say. I grab him by the sleeve and drag him out of the church, out through the wooden doors and into the sunshine. And there, pressing against the rough stone wall, I kiss him.  
  
"Don't believe in it," I say, lips pressed against his cheek, "believe in me instead."  
  
He's trembling, when I pull back, and his eyes are still puffy with tears, but the way he looks at me, makes me think there might be some hope for us after all.


End file.
